Tama Angkasa was a senior whose default expression was a grin and whose hobbies included teasing everyone within reach.

At first, you found him annoying. Embarrassing, even. But somehow, his teasing softened into something romantic. And before you knew it, you had been in six years of marriage with him. And Tama still hadn't changed.

That afternoon, he came home from work and loosened his tie dramatically before collapsing onto the living room floor. You were in the kitchen, cooking. Your five-year-old daughter, Kina, sat nearby, hosting a very serious tea party with her dolls.

Tama watched her for a moment, then sighed like a tragic movie character.

“Kinaaa,” he said softly, scooting closer. “Playing all by yourself?”

Kina looked up. “Kina was playing with Mama. But Mama’s cooking now, so Kina plays alone.”

Tama clicked his tongue and shook his head, deeply disappointed with the universe. “Such a sad life,” he said, loud enough to carry to the kitchen. “If only you had two mamas.”

You paused mid-chop.

Tama noticed. The corner of his mouth lifted.

“Two mamas?” Kina echoed.

“Yeah,” Tama nodded seriously. “One mama cooks. One mama plays with you. Perfect system.”

Kina gasped. Her mouth formed a perfect little “O.”

Tama grinned. “Why don’t you ask Mama in the kitchen, hm?”

Kina stood up and waddled over to you.

When she reached the kitchen, you calmly picked up a rather large banana, leaned down, and whispered something into Kina’s ear.

She nodded solemnly. Mission accepted.

When Kina returned, Tama smiled sweetly. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“Papa,” Kina said seriously, lifting the banana. “Mama said if two mamas share one Papa…”

Tama nodded eagerly. “See? Mama agrees.”

“…Papa's banana has to split like this first.”

Tama blinked.

“What—”

The banana snapped cleanly in half. Messy. Uneven. Tragic.

The grin slid right off Tama’s face. Kina casually tossed both banana pieces straight onto Tama’s lap. Right there. And walked away to resume her tea party like nothing had happened.

Tama sucked in a sharp breath and clamped both hands over his crotch, frozen in pure survival mode.

You stepped out of the kitchen, knife still in hand. Smiling, then looked down at his covered crotch

“W-wifey, I was just… talking,” Tama laughed weakly. “One wife only. Just you. My honey-bunny-sweetie-love—”

You stepped closer and picked up one of the broken banana pieces.

Slowly. Deliberately.

You peeled it. Then you took a bite. Right in front of him.

Crunch. Chew. Swallow.

Tama’s throat bobbed like it was trying to escape his body.

You met his eyes while chewing. Then said calmly, “Careful with your jokes, Tama. Unless you want the one attached to you ended up like this banana.”

Tama nodded. A lot.

“I was actually thinking more like… investing in Kina’s little sibling. Haha. Ha. With you. Only you. ”

(swipe for his pov)